Make My Way
by PallaPlease
Summary: An unusual Pilot X Relena fic.  Relena learns a few things about herself.  [Complete]


Make My Way  
  
  
AN: Well, this is just your (not-so) average Pilot x Relena ficcie. *grins* It isn't 1xR (*gasp!*) or 2xR (*double gasp!*) or…well, can't give it away, ne? *winks* But this is a songfic, so the title itself is a clue. C'mon, you can guess…  
  
Anyway, I've tried my darned best to avoid clichés, like Relena hating her job, Trowa's favorite response being "…" and so on. And, yes, Demeter-chan, you *may* beat me with a folding chair if a cliché (or two) (or fifteen…*ahem*) sneaks in. Ohhh, the impending *pain* and *burning* *agony*…  
  
Hey, a nickel!  
  
*  
Disclaimer: Please. I'm 13 and in the 8th grade. Like I own 'em.  
Song: "Make My Way"; performed (?) by Nakahara Shigeru (?)  
*  
  
~~  
  
yoruni nareba kagayakeru hoshikuzu  
hitotsu zutsuga chigau rekishio motsu  
nante taikutsude mukankeino tetsugakuni  
asuwa toori sugiru  
  
[at night the shining stardust  
each with a different history  
boring and unrelated philosophy  
the days pass by]  
  
~~  
  
There was a strange sort of satisfaction in knowing that her debates with other politicians not only aided the furthering of her ideals for peace, but provided an outlet for the all-too-present frustration at the pigheadedness of many of her colleagues. And so, Relena Darlian, Vice Foreign Minister of Earth, locked heads with an increasingly annoying Baroness. What she was Baroness of was completely open to theory.  
  
Absolute pacifism was a distant desire that could not be reached by humans, as Relena had learned the hard way. 'Was I,' she wondered with a portion of her mind, 'really this ignorant?'  
  
The Baroness continued her heated defense that nothing could be gained from war, death, and pain. Morbidly, Relena replied that, sick as it was, war brought peace, death brought life, and pain brought health. The table of senators and such nodded reluctantly.  
  
Which reminded that part of her brain not fully engaged in the battle of wits about a time before politics was her life, when five teenaged boys showed her unintentionally that there was more to the universe than herself.  
  
And as she left the immense marble building, she mused as to where they were.  
  
~~  
  
hitono yasashisaya  
kaeru bashoo motomereba  
yowasano iiwake dato  
waraeba ii  
  
[people's kindness  
seeking a place to return to  
reasons for being weak  
so laugh at me]  
  
~~  
  
Quatre wasn't hard to locate, media-wise. Prominent male heir of an enormous fortune and an ex-Gundam pilot to boot, hard to find? Pshaw. Last she heard, he and Dorothy Catalonia were engaged.  
  
A smile tugging at her lips, Relena waited patiently at the curb for a taxi. Gazing up at the glorious skyscrapers blanketed by a velvet backdrop, which, in turn, was coated with glittering diamond stars, she shivered a little at the nipping cold, hitching her coat a bit tighter about her person. New York City was expecting snow.   
  
The words of an old Christmas song tumbled from a toy shop behind her and, swaying unconsciously, exhaling to see a fine mist, she peered over her shoulder, through the brightly lit window. Toys and books were nestled in a glitter-covered cotton 'snow' spread in the display. As if entranced, she left her post, abandoned her vigil, to move up to the bright window.  
  
A moment passed without her notice, absorbed in the display as she was, washed by warm, fuzzy memories of idyllic Christmases past.  
  
It was a voice, really, that woke her from her trance of ghosts and fleeting memories. It was a man's voice, soft and a tenor verging on baritone, nothing truly extradordinary.  
  
"Pretty, aren't they."  
  
Relena turned quickly, lengthy wheat gold hair fanning in a spiral hurricane with the sudden motion.   
  
~~  
  
so hide away  
muhyoujou nokamenno shitani nemuru  
kokoro o subete sarake dashite  
so make my way  
mayoinagara kizutsuki nagara susumu  
michiwa asue tsuzuku  
  
[so hide away  
sleeping behind an expressionless mask  
revealing all my heart  
so make my way  
getting lost, getting hurt I go on  
down the road to tomorrow]  
  
~~  
  
She hadn't expected to actually find an ex-pilot while she thought of the unusual quintet.   
  
"Trowa?" she squeaked. 'Oh, MY, that certainly sounded SO very MATURE,' her mind spoke sarcastically.  
  
Trowa smiled and Relena made a note to check with her doctor that she wasn't getting laryngitis or something uncomfortable in the throat region like that.  
  
"Relena," he replied evenly, tan face more relaxed than she had ever seen it. That, of course, wasn't saying much. She turned back to the window, absently sweeping strands of her hair back behind her ears.  
  
"The toys. They're pretty, aren't they," he reiterated, more of a statement than a question. Olive green eyes shining in his Grecian face, he pointed a long, graceful finger at a music box. A tiny ballerina twirled in a continuous circle on its lid and Relena recognized the music she had heard earlier as it fluted forth from the box.  
  
" 'White Christmas,' " Trowa smiled sweetly. "The ballerina looks like you," he added after a moment.  
  
She took a closer look. The figure had sculpted blonde hair and large blue eyes, face eerily like her own. "Well," she laughed, "she does look quite a bit like me!"  
  
~~  
  
daremo ikusenno kanashimio daki  
hitorizutsuga chigau namidade naku  
nante migattena menzaifuo hirugaesu  
jidaiwa owatte iku  
  
[everyone has thousands of sadness  
each cry with a different tear  
showing such selfish excuses  
that era is ending]  
  
~~  
  
They lapsed into a companionable silence and, for the first time in five years, Relena felt deeply, truly, absolutely content and wholly peaceful in her heart and soul.  
  
"You've done quite well," he broke the silence, before falling quiet once more. Passerby hurried on, paying scant attention to the tall man and smaller woman.  
  
"Thank-you," she whispered, touching the smooth glass with her outstretched fingers. "I haven't seen any of you, aside from Quatre, in years. How is Catherine?"  
  
He smiled again. "She's fine. She and Heero are--"   
  
He stopped suddenly, mid-sentence.  
  
Then Relena giggled, patting his shoulder reassuringly. "It's all right, Trowa. 'Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all,' as someone put it." She paused, catching her bottom lip in her teeth and chewing on it. "But, y'know what?" She stole a glance at her slender companion, comforted to know that he was listening patiently. "I don't think I really…you know, ever loved Heero. Sometimes…I wish I did, so I'd have someone to treasure and love…" Her cheeks flushed and she clamped her mouth shut tightly.  
  
"You are loved by millions of people," Trowa told her gently.  
  
"No!" The fiery strength and fluid emotion she poured into that single word startled the both of them. "No…" Clearing her throat, she tried again. "No. They love what I represent. They don't love Relena Darlian. They…don't know me." Shyly, Relena ducked her head, cheeks flushing once more.  
  
"Well, then, what is the real Relena like?" he asked softly, placing his fingers firmly under her chin, lifting her face up. "What does she like? What does she love or hate?"  
  
She took a calming breath, ignoring to the best of her capabilities the comfortable warmth caused by his fingers on her skin. "I like volleyball," she confessed meekly, "and chocolate fudge ice cream. I like staying up late on Tuesdays, and I like rainy Sundays and cats and Saturday morning cartoons." Relena took another breath and Trowa pulled his hand back, listening quietly as she continued. "I love mimes and old movies in black-and-white and music from the 1900s AD. I hate spinach and castor oil and the dark. And, and…there's so much I wish they knew!" she burst, flinging her arms out wide.  
  
"Then," Trowa said calmly, a winter breeze wisping through his unusual chestnut hair as he closed his eyes, "tell them what you just told me."  
  
She froze, lips slightly parted. "I never thought of that," she admitted with a sheepish grin.  
  
He smiled yet again, something secret hidden in the feline grace of his being.  
  
A part of her knew the secret and it alarmed her faintly, but sharply.  
  
~~  
  
ikiteiku tameni  
tsuyokunaritaipo naraba  
yowasamo furui kizumo  
jibuno shire  
  
[in order to live  
if you want to become strong  
weakness and old wounds  
learn about yourself]  
  
~~  
  
Trowa was moving to leave, she noticed, and, apparently of their own accord, her hands shot up to grasp the lapels of his coat, holding him in place. "Where," she began sweetly, "the hell do you think you're going?"  
  
He shrugged and she rolled her baby blue eyes, muttering, "Men."  
  
"I am staying with Catherine and Heero," he answered, carefully detaching her hands from his coat, "at the hotel on the next block."  
  
Without any actual warning, he bent over, fitting his lips to hers for a mere heartbeat that passed swiftly. "See you soon, I hope," he whispered, merging into the crowd.  
  
Several pedestrians cooed and a little girl sighed gustily, starry-eyed at the brief moment of romance.  
  
Touching her lips with her icy fingers, Relena blushed, murmuring, "Thank-you…"  
  
A snowflake drifted down to New York City.  
  
~~  
  
so hide away  
kakushitamama wasureteika kokoro  
kono udenonaka mezameteiku  
so make my way  
mayoi nagara furimuki nagara imawa  
aratana deaio matsu  
  
[so hide away  
hidden away, the almost forgotten heart  
inside these arms is starting to awaken  
so make my way  
losing the way, looking back, now  
I wait for a new meeting]  
  
~~  
  
*  
  
End AN: Yeah, yeah, I know an author's notes at the end ruins the 'mood' (*falls off chair, laughing uncontrollably*) of the fic, but, heck…  
  
Anyway, lyrics to "Make My Way" were obtained from a website I can't locate. Yes, it is a Trowa song. :} I also have the Japanese and English lyrics to "Ai wa Ryuusei" ("Love is a Shooting Star") and "Doukeshi" ("Clown"), both of which are Trowa songs.  
  
Join Nanashiness! Go to http://www.groups.yahoo.com and search for 'Nanashiness' on it! I don't own it, but I post frequently on it and it supports 3xR. (Holy crud! I'm not a lurker on it?! Heck's frozen over!!)  
  
CC&C and R (heck, flames, too) are welcome! Contact me at Lisa@ascot-sama.zzn.com or the review thing if you're reading this on fanfiction.net, people. However, if you're reading this on Nanashiness, just Reply; if you're reading on a website, e-mail at my AOL address. 'Kay? 'Kay!  
  
I am but a horrible 3xR writer in the midst of many great ones.  
  
This was written because I wanted to express my own views on the 'Relena=Mary Sue' issue. I think the reason everyone 'loves' her is because she's a celebrity of sorts. They love her as an icon, not as a person. Why I had her blabbing to Trowa instead of another pilot (Duo was a very tempting idea…be quiet, 2xR side of my brain! *smacks self with bowling ball*) is easy. He's quiet and soothing (at least in my opinion), so I can see her confessing all her deep, dark secrets to him better than the others. Can you see her explaining that she's confused to Wufei? I. Think. NOT. Isn't Trowa a swell guy, though? (Don't worry, I still love Wufei!)  
  
For excellent 3xR fics, read the ones by Guardian Kysra, Angel Love, and NemKess.  
  
This is dedicated to everyone. You rule, every single one of you people out there!  
  
Unless you're Saddam Hussein. You *so* do not rule, Mr. Hussein.  
  
PallaPlease.  
Written from: 11: 33 to 3: 28 PM (3rd period to 7th period, during free time) on April 3, 2001. 


End file.
